Summer Salt
by darkrux
Summary: She never thought a girl wearing a Power Ranger t-shirt would become her future love story. AU.


**[A/N]**: Originally this fiction's main focus was toward Sasha/Mikasa's relationship, it still is, but I also decided to focus on Eren's and Armin's daily life as well, this trio. Don't ask me for the setting 'cause I really don't know that yet, probably never will throughout this fiction. Also my characters might be a little OOC (out of character), not sorry at all, and bump all 104th squad members' ages +2. Mikasa is _genderqueer (bigender)_, and goes by the pronoun _she _(so nothing change there when it comes to pronouns). Her hairstyle is equivalent to Eren's, like canon, he offered her hair tips so they can both look beasties, aha.

**Warning**: There's a slight mention of torture, sexism, sexual assault, dissection, gore (?) in this chapter. It's trivial stuff that is not related to the plot exactly.

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Chapter 1

* * *

Across the street were Mikasa and Eren stood was a clear view of tonight's party they were both attending too. Eren only agreed to come alongside with her, let her drag him along, and Mikasa secretly find this implausibly sweet of him. He gritted his teeth, and absentmindedly ran his fingertips across his braces, impatiently waiting for this upcoming Monday so they could be removed. He didn't mind crooked teeth three years ago, or now, but their mother thought it'll leave a great touch on Eren, and make him irresistibly handsome afterward.

"So, is Armin coming?" Those fingertips brushed his bare neck, crossing the street when the traffic lights switched to red.

She, like him, didn't have an answer to this. Reaching for her back pocket to pull out her unscratched, razor flip phone she bought with a part of their father's monthly payment aside from Eren's, and went through her contacts to dial Armin's phone number. "Don't know," Was all Eren received in return.

Eren grunt in frustration, throwing his arms over his head before he stepped on the sidewalk, and detect the sounds of Mikasa's phone ringing while she waited for Armin to pick up.

"What did he do, did he get himself in trouble already?" Armin greeted Mikasa from the other end of her call, the tone of cars' speed briefly swift passed him, suggesting that Armin was nowhere near his house, but in the middle of who knows where. Armin's concern was understandable; after all it would only be natural for Eren to throw a ruckus at tonight's party that'll probably end up tugging him out over her shoulder.

There was a slight pause, her eyes drifted toward Eren when his back leaned against the fence, and contemplate his surroundings as a quick distraction, "No… not yet."

Eren couldn't make out the words Mikasa received from Armin, especially where he was standing. But the instant he felt her eyes laid heavy on him, Eren knew he was probably the main topic of their conversation. He wanted to know what's up, even though there wasn't a slightest chance Mikasa would hear his brief bawls when the music that's coming from the fence Eren relied on got louder the instant another song was introduced. He crinkled his nose.

"That's a song from Nicki Minaj, there's no doubt Jean requested it." Armin has gone to Jean's house regularly to simulate his taste in music. During that time he bounced on the couch with just boxers and a Star Wars logo t-shirt, playing an airless guitar while bobbing his head to Modest Mouse's _Float On_ Jean tried, but miserably failed to hit a perfect score on Guitar Hero. Reiner was too busy meddling in the kitchen, practicing baking a dozen brownies for his cooking class, and they were good enough to save leftovers for Bertholdt.

"Eren will be glad to see him."

Eren scoffs, hustled hands inside his pockets, wondering if he misheard Armin's chuckles via phone, "See who?"

She turned her head away, "Eren wants to know whether you're coming to tonight's party."

He repeated himself, "See _who_?"

"About that, I probably won't be able to come this time, something came up at the last minute." Armin's destination was just around the corner of the street, walking past nocturnal couples at the plaza, and sat crossed legged near an empty bench that made him faced a multi-lane highway. "A member of the anime club texted me a while back that a meeting is being held tonight, and well, I can't really miss it. I'll give you a call when the meeting is over, and meet up with you guys afterward."

"Understood, be safe."

Eren snatched Mikasa's phone, "Hey Armin, are you coming or not?"

"Ah,"His eyes averted to the phone, his lose hand gripped the edge of the bench, "no, I have to attend a meeting right now."

"What? _Why_?"

Before neither of them could speak, Mikasa shoved her elbow on Eren's abdomen and snatched her phone back.

Armin bit his lip, "Is he _alright_?"

She balanced her phone on her right shoulder, preventing it from falling out of her grasp. Beside her, there was Eren, who was panting from the after affect while he tried to appear, and failed, collected, "What was that for? Cut me some slack."

One of her hands was fisted, strive playful punches directly at Eren's core, and laughed when Eren warned her to stop, "He's fine."

There was a sigh of relief on Armin's part.

Eren straighten up, bracing Mikasa's shoulder towards her left, "Hey," And pressed his ear against the phone until their shoulders bumped, "What is he saying? I can't hear him over the horrible taste of Jean's music."

Armin bent his legs, and pressed his chin against his knees' gap, "It's not _that_ bad. We actually have similar tastes with certain bands' songs, including the ones you introduced me to."

"Armin, don't …" Armin knew this irritated Eren the most, and it aggravated him when Armin happens to point out similar traits they both happen to have, as if he was trying to prove a certain point. He didn't want to admit that Armin is right in any given sense when it comes to Jean overall, period.

Armin drops the subject with an apology, more towards Eren when he explained the meeting was about to start soon, and needed to hang up. The three of them said their goodbyes before Mikasa ended her call, and hustled her phone through her back pocket after she had checked the time. It was five minutes before seven, and thoroughly explained to Eren Armin's hold up. He didn't disrupt her once, walking side by side until they finally passed through the entry gates of the party.

To Mikasa's surprise, the party was held outside of the house rather than indoors, banquet tables' stack one after the other, wrapped in thin white sheets brimmed with food that's placed across the covered porch of the house. Styled colored lanterns hanged over their heads, and an oak tree that sprouted on the other side from where Mikasa and Eren stood, crammed with various rustic lanterns that dangled each branch around the tree.

"Okay, I guess it's not that bad." Eren smoothed his fingers through his hair, grasping the intakes of the party as Mikasa.

Her eyes gleamed, trying to grasp one of those colored lanterns by outstretching her body on her tip toes. She couldn't reach it; Eren snorts, tried for himself, and failed as well.

"Yo guys, over here, you can't miss this!" Connie waved his hand over his head to catch their attention despite the guests ignorantly walking among them, only to accidently drenched the rest of his unconsumed liquor all over a girl's tank top.

She was exasperated, "Oh my god, Connie! Look what you did!"

"Oh shit, Sasha, my bad! Let me get 'ya some towels." He beat her to it, rushing for the tables to tear four paper towels, and head back to save her day.

Her furrowed eyebrows descended, pointlessly brushing off the stain on her top, "Nah man, its cool. It's just a stain anyway." She grabbed the paper towels Connie offered, and rubbed it more hastily. How much did she regrets wearing anything related to white.

She throws her head back, and sigh, "I give up. Can I just borrow one of your shirts? I'll return it tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure, you know where my room is. Just don't wreck yourself from the tainted sight of piled grubby clothes on my floor."

"It better not reek in there."

"So … are you guys dating?" Eren watched Sasha dashed through the front door. The idea of wearing someone else's shirt quirked Eren, dismissing the fact, that he, himself had done it more than a dozen times with Mikasa when they're at home. There wasn't much of a size difference over slackly t-shirts, but the thought of wearing anyone's shirts made him uncomfortable. He just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"What, me dating Sasha? No way, she has a guy for herself. We're pretty close though."

Eren didn't bother to conceal how shock he was, exchanging looks with Mikasa only to perceive how identical their expressions were.

"Anyways, you guys gotta see this, come on!" Both, Mikasa and Eren were dragged by Connie, their wrists shading a light red from the constriction of Connie's fingers as his empty red cup was long but forgotten.

"Connie, what's the big idea? Where're we heading?" Connie's persistent brought Eren on edge, not that he was restraining him, since his curiosity pretty much hit the deck.

Eren wasn't the only one of course, beside him, Mikasa willingly tag along. Although, knowing Connie, the actual outcome of the scenario Connie persistently thought it was a given, wouldn't be remotely interesting compare to Mikasa's fabulist schemes she came up with on their way there.

_Oh, did he prove them wrong._

Wine bottle tiki torches were attached to the fence; only the minorities of them were lighted due to safety circumstances. Surely one of those reasons was more towards the crowd that gathered on the dance floor, those intrusively boisterous teenagers who were cheering at the top of their lungs.

"What's going on?" Mikasa was the first one to speak. She caught sight of Marco, who stood more towards the center. His eyes dazzled, while Christa, who was tugged over Ymir's shoulders, was throwing her arms over her head in clutched fists, cheering on just beside Marco.

Bertholdt could be seen from the other far end of the crowd brimmed with sweat, trying to disband himself from these teenagers that were unfamiliar to him, all except for Reiner. He has thrown apologies when his arms were bumped against someone's shoulders, braced himself, and turns his attention to Reiner, who was eagerly cheering on with the mob. He hesitates whether he should just turn around and leave, he didn't want to be a part of this mess since it first started, but he also didn't want to be alone. He sighs, and made up his mind, departing from the crowd only to be followed by Reiner a moment later.

Bert was surreptitiously happy.

Eren, on the other hand, stare off in one particular direction, the center of the crowd. That well-known hair he'd recall anywhere he'd go, or those disastrous facial expressions Eren remarked whenever they fought.

There, where Eren laid his eyes on was Jean, the main cause of this uproar. Jean was an enormous shipwreck with scarlet cheeks, likely to avert his gaze anywhere but Mina Carolina, and think of any possible unappealing outcome that can overcome an arousal. He couldn't fathom how Marco wasn't dragging him away, nevertheless cheering for him.

* * *

Armin lied. He almost never does when it comes to Mikasa and Eren, but if he did admittedly told them the truth, it would've sound like he was plain ditching them. His book bag, filled with his unfinished "art project" aside from books was swung over his shoulder when he walked up the stairs on the second floor in an apartment complex.

He knocks lightly on the door instead of pressing the door bell button, unbothered to fix his bed head.

"Come in, it's open." Annie called out from the inside.

He twisted the doorknob, and invites himself in, walking through the narrow hall that leads toward the living room. There on the floor sat Annie crossed legged, drawing on a piece of printed paper displayed on her coffee table wearing a pair of shorts, and a plain white shirt.

"You shouldn't leave your door unlock."

Annie looks up. This is the first time he ever seen her with her hair untied, strands of blond hair curved behind her ear to deliberately expose her industrial piercing. All the while, she tried to suppress a smile from Armin's sloppy hair that went noted almost instantly, taking her time to stretch her arms over her head until her bones snap.

Annie took this opportunity to stand up and get herself a drink, "Dr. Pepper, or Sprite? That's all I have."

"Sprite," He tosses his shoes aside, and settled on the floor. Digging through his book bag to pulled out his sketchbook, and placed his most recent work on the table. Annie inattentively scratched her flat tummy, and leaned down to retrieve their drinks before she kicked her fridge shut, "How's your story going?"

"Decent, it's getting there, and I developed a character that has similar characteristics as you."

An eyebrow arched, staring down at Armin, "Is that so? Details."

Armin reached for his drink, and their fingers brushed, he didn't flinch away, neither did she, "Well, she's _the_ most wanted villain in St. Petersburg, a serial killer."

The cap on her can drink popped, and took a sip, "Oh? And what makes her the most wanted?"

Those lose stack of papers inside Armin's notebook Annie laid her eyes on were rough sketches related to Armin's comic script, the panels were horribly paced, some better than the others. She sat next to Armin, and reached for other papers he'd drafted until today, intentionally rubbing his shoulder just as her fingertips tingled against his knuckles.

He licks his lips unintentionally, "Her gender isn't yet identified, but people just assume she's a male. All her fatalities are criminals murdered in abandoned buildings, tied on beds naked to suffice for her liking. She dissects them consciously, and cut the arteries in use of her homemade scissors to remove their hearts, only to sew it over their chest with a red thread."

"Symbolizing their fate," She noted, untangling her black hair band from her wrist, and fix her hair into a ponytail until Armin thoughtlessly grasped her wrist. She stares at him.

"Um, I would've like it if you didn't tied your hair for once," His griped loosen, "You look really nice like this as well."

Her eyes widen, and Armin remarked Annie's slight parted lips. Annie didn't say anything in return, but let her hair drain down against her neck, and place her hair band on the table. She looked away, and reached for the next page of his sequel, eager to change the subject, "Does she get to slice off dicks?"

It wasn't meant to be a serious question; she just wanted a reaction out of Armin, maybe a smile, or watches his cheeks turn from tone skin to fuchsia. She didn't receive any of these feedbacks. Instead he was impassive, twirling his finger through his hair when he shifts his weight against the table, and actually took Annie's question _into consideration_. From there, aiming for a comedian didn't sound like the greatest idea anymore.

"Not all criminals are males, and, well, it would've made more sense if her sinners were rapists," He took this opportunity to take a dip out of his drink, asking the most anticipative question yet, "And why would she collect genitals in the first place?"

Her cheek was pressed against the table, quite appease by the temperature change, "Dildos."

"That's-"

"She can sell them, carve those dicks in ivory. Back in Victorian times, woman would go to psychiatrists for their stress problems that had to do with women's reproductive organs. So the doctors would do a pelvic massage, until the patient had a hysterical paroxysm or what we call an orgasm these nowadays. So, when women stressed out from being a wife and mother, the doc would masturbate her. Many doctors kept a supply various sized dildos just for that purpose, and sometimes prescribed them to their patients." She doesn't recall the instant Armin tucks his hair behind his ear, how pink his helix were like if she just demonstrated how a fine proper lady orgasms.

"Being a doctor as her life career doesn't sound so bad," Armin came into agreement, "Actually, I was considering her skinned their faces, after they departed of course. Therefore, the police force wouldn't be able to abbreviate their identification just yet."

"_If_ they even bothered that is," Annie points this out, gesturing her drink towards him, "after all, they weren't much of a police force back then as it is today." After a slight pause though, Annie twitched her lips when she reconsidered rephrasing her words. Although, much to her dislike, she was already forming a certain question through her lips, "What's the outcome of these skinned faces? What does she do with them?"

Armin, unlike her, eagerly answered without a train of thought, "Oh my god, glad you asked! I originally wanted her to run a mask shop suitable for masquerade parties. Guess what these masks are made off?"

"That's," She arched her brows, "Gross," And takes another sip of her Dr. Pepper.

He actually chuckles, "I know! But don't you think it'll leave a great touch though?"

She leaned against her table, supporting her cheek against her hand, "Has Eren preoccupied you with scary movies recently?" It's what she said instead.

"Yeah," He curves his hair behind his other ear, cheeks shading a slight red, "He has."

"Figures."

_God, please don't make me fall for him_, was all she had in mind in that moment.

But she had other things to worry about, like where the hell did her pencil go? She was pretty sure she left it on the table last time she used it, but there was no sign of it. She couldn't find it underneath Armin's script of papers. Not much luck on the floor either.

"Um, Annie?"

Her head turned too suddenly, flinched back when Armin was rather close to her frontal, closer than she had thought.

"Don't move." He said.

And she froze.

She didn't shrink back when his fingertips brush her cheekbone, nevertheless budged. His fingers stroke her skin mildly, and rub his thumb against her cheek. Never did she glide her eyes away from his, uneager to admit that this is her number one trait she likes about Armin the most. Next was his inspiration, then his lips. The way he smiles, and pouts when he's in deep thought.

Her eyes close, trying to feel his fingertips brush against her temple. And her fingers tingled, realizing that his hand was moving more towards her hair now, tucking her long bangs behind her ear before something was removed from the back of her ear.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

She opened her eyes suddenly. He was holding the pencil she was seeking for.

"Thanks," And reached for it, "And Armin?"

"Yeah?"

"Your panels' pacing is terrible, a complete turmoil."

"That's … rather mean …" He admitted.

* * *

Jean swallowed, his dick jutting up when Mina swirl her hips against his groin. He didn't place his sweaty palms against her waist, frozen in place as blood rushed through his head. His fingers shook, knowing he should take action, and tell Mina to stop, but his lips quirked and so were his legs. This was never a good sign. It wasn't much help when all these teenagers had gathered around them, cheering, and betting sides after they were noted on the dance floor.

Mina arched her back, and stirred upward. Her hands laced over Jean's jaw line, appreciating his body heat, and his rigidness when her nails scratch through his undercut. Jean holds his breath, and his legs give out, slammed hard on the floor bringing Mina along with him.

Ymir howled with laughter while Marco immediately rushes to their side in mild concern. Mina, who land flatly over Jean, hair brushing through the crook of Jean's neck, stirred around giggling, and sat upright. Jean panicked at the loss of Mina's body, his bulge now exposed to their audience, even more embarrassed when the girls' reactions were quite the expected. Their faces twist in repugnance, leaving the crowd along with a few others.

"Jean, are you alright?" Mina's cheeks flushed when she averted her eyes on Jean's crotch.

"Y-yeah, I'm … fine." He sheepishly looks down.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" Marco placed his palms against his knees when he leaned down beside Jean's waist line.

"Marco, what the hell? I'm so mad at you right now, don't you dare look at my face." Jean childishly crossed his arms over his chest, looking away from him.

Marco frowns, "Are you seriously mad at me right now?"

"Yes." Jean muttered.

"Why?" Marco took this opportunity to seat down beside him, anticipated to see how long Jean's avoidance would actually last this time.

Aside from them, the dance floor was quite hollow by now. Christa, who was still braced over Ymir's shoulders demanded to put her down, eager to join them as well. Much to Ymir's dismay, she firmly griped Christa's waist, and let go off her when Ymir shifted down on her knees. Arms disentangled around Ymir's neck, standing on her heels, and immediately rushed to their friends' side while Ymir trailed along a few steps behind her.

"Isn't it obvious? I was half expecting you to drag me away." Jean faced Marco.

"That's cute, didn't know Jean was your damsel in distress Marco." Christa chimed in.

Marco prickled his finger against his cheek, "Neither did I."

"What? No! I-" Jean glanced over at Christa, who sat the opposite side of Marco now, and then flatly stare at Marco before he covered his face, "_Ugh._"

Ymir stood just over Jean's head, "Well someone's making a scene, better back away Christa or you'll catch his cooties."

Christa rolled her eyes, "You don't catch _cooties_ just by staring at a guy's boner Ymir."

"Jean's an exception." Ymir mocked him.

"Shut up Ymir." Jean glared up.

"Either way, you better take care of it, unless you have a kink that involves coming all over the dance floor. That'll definitely turn all those straight guys gay." Ymir smirked, "I even saw Eren a while ago, want me to bring him?"

That brought Jean on his feet, redundant to see Eren under these circumstances, "I'm heading for the bathroom, don't follow me." And strode toward Connie's house before he turned around one last time, "And definitely don't tell Yeager about this."

"Sure thing sweetchicks wouldn't dream of it." Ymir called out to him.

Jean waves her comment off.

Although, right after Ymir made sure Jean was plain out of sight, she then focused on her groupie, precisely more towards Christa, "So how do we tell Eren?"

Mina searched for an average looking boy with his outlandish green eyes when Ymir mentioned of Eren. Ignoring Christa's bickering until she spotted Mikasa in her red strapless top, and high waist shorts that fit well with her leather boots. _And damn did she look good_. Mina was most definitely sure she had a lady crush on her, quite happy to see that Eren was easy to spot on afterwards. He, unlike his sister, didn't stood out as much, wearing a plaid shirt, and his favorite paired of ripped jeans Mina always seen him wear most of the time along with those black converse.

She didn't hesitate any longer, rushing toward them excitedly, "Eren!"

Eren turned immediately at the mention of his name, eyes caught on Mina, "Hey!" His arms wrapped around her waist, and lift her up in a semi twirl before he put her down, "It's nice to know you're here."

"Yeah," She glanced over at Mikasa, and embraced her as well, "your curls look great."

Mikasa subconsciously twirled a strand of her extensions, happy to know that someone took noticed of her hair, "Eren helped." She turned sideways, facing Eren, "I like it very much."

Well that explained how some strands of Mikasa's hair had more volume than the others, especially towards her back.

"Yeah, I think I did a pretty good job for my first time, burned my fingers in the process." Eren rubbed his hands.

That wasn't much of a surprise coming from Eren exactly, it was rather, well, predictable, "I can very much see that happening."

"Well, I'll catch you guys later. I think I saw Reiner and Bertholdt a while ago, want to say hi and everything. See ya!" Connie waved them goodbye, and head off toward a couple of taken chairs that were placed just around the dance floor.

"So, what was going on? Why was everyone gathered around for?" Eren didn't waste any time, abruptly going on topic Connie didn't bother to explain.

Mikasa needed to know as well.

"Oh that," Mina picked on quite instantly what Eren was referring too, biting her lip while at it, "It was practically nothing. Ymir wanted to know whether I would grind Jean or not, so she dared me." She felt hesitant, quite ashamed.

Eren perked his eyebrows, "Wait, was that really it? Was that all there was to it?" He paused for a slight moment before his eyes dilated, "_You_ grinded Jean?"

"Yup." She popped her mouth on the p.

"Oh wow, um, okay."

"Did you like it?" Mikasa interrupted him.

Eren incredibly stared at his sister.

"A little," Mina admitted, rubbing her cheeks. She didn't want them to know she was embarrassed, "So, um, anyways, where's Armin? I don't see him anywhere."

"He didn't come."

"He couldn't come." Mikasa stare at Eren after they had spoken in sync.

"Ah, I see." Mina realized.

Bee Gees' _Stayin Alive_ was up next and Eren got chills through his body, suddenly in the mood to dance, tapping his foot along with the beat as he offered Mina his hand, "We gotta dance to this song! How about it? Want to dance?"

She swept her eyes over Mikasa, disliking the idea of leaving her alone, "What about Mikasa?"

Eren looked befuddled for the first time tonight, "What do you mean? She's coming along," He focused on his sister now, "Right?"

Mikasa perked up, happiness overflowing her, "Yes."

"Yeah, see? So are you coming or not?" Eren expectedly stared at Mina Carolina, his right hand lacing through one of Mikasa's.

Mina sighed, accepting his offer by willingly taking his hand, "God Eren, you're such a ladies' man tonight."

Mikasa smiled, so did Eren, dragging both girls toward the dance floor while they exchanged giggles.

"I can hear you, you know." Eren didn't bother to look back, rolling his eyes.

The mood was rather stoic when they blend in with the other dancers, holding their ground frantically until a girl threw an apology towards Mina when their shoulders bumped. There was a slight moment of intimidation between them afterward until Eren shook his hips, and twirl both ladies around to ease the tension. Mina's summer dress brushed against Eren's thighs frequently when she jerks her hips from side to side, shuffling along with Mikasa and Eren around the dance floor. Their footing jangle against the flooring, striding left to right with their arms tucked over the other, swinging their legs concurrently forward before Eren laughed gaudily when he lost balance and land flat on the floor.

"This is definitely not how we dance disco." Mikasa retorted when she helped Mina get Eren back on his feet.

Eren brushed it off, ignoring the looming stares he received from teenagers when they walked by, "So what? I'm having fun."

"Same here," Mina encouraged him.

"Well you guys dance, I'm off for a drink," Mikasa excused herself when the song ended.

"You sure?" Eren looked skeptical.

"Yeah, I'm thirsty. Just give me a call if you need anything." She walked off dismissively when Draft Punk's _One more time_ started to play next, heading toward the front porch, and grabbed a water bottle from the ice cooler.

It didn't took much effort to withdraw the cap from the bottle, casually throw herself on a nearby comfy chair as she watch Eren and Mina dance around the bare floor. It took her a moment to noticed Connie's friend stretching just outside the door, replacing her stained white top for a Power Ranger t-shirt that fitted her quite well.

"You look like you're having fun." Sasha's navel piercing had a striking shape beneath that worn shirt as she strode towards Mikasa.

Mikasa crossed her legs, stroking her bottle with the tips of her nails, "Actually, I am."

* * *

**[A/N]**: Armin/Annie was my first ship in this fandom, and so I pretty much sat my ass down, and started writing things to my liking, aha. First fic for this fandom ye!


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